Back by popular demand, ha ha ha! Before I start this chapter I'd maybe like to just mention a wee point that's been brought to my attention so firstly a special thanks to Rtms for your kind insights. It seems that maybe the problem with this story is the fact that I'm not showing Morgana as the ultimate evil. If you prefer to see her as this evil character then that's grand because that's how the show portrays her. Arthur and Merlin are the good guys and Morgana and Morgause are the bad guys, right? Hmm, well maybe. All I'm trying to do is tell a story more from Morgana's stand point because I do really like her and Morgause's characters. Of course, from Arthur and Merlin's point she would be evil because she stands as their enemy but if you sit and think about it, Morgana & Morgause probably believe they're in the right throughout the series- seeing themselves as bringing the Old Religion back into the world and justice to those persecuted by Uther. Not much different to the Marion Zimmer Bradley book Mists of Avalon where the more traditional Arthur story is told through the eyes of Morgaine instead of through Arthur.
According to the traffic updates you are still out there reading the story and I am so grateful to you all and really hope you're enjoying it but please do let me know what you're thinking because if I don't know how you feel about the story I can't improve on it or take it in the direction you'd like it to go.
I have finally figured out where this story is going and have started writing the closing chapters so for those of you have been keeping up with the story, stay with me, I will try not to disappoint you. In the meantime, the plot thickens in Camelot...
Chapter Eight
Less than impressed would be about the kindest way of describing Arthur's mood as he and Merlin trudged their way through the muddy streets of the lower town the very same day that Morgana had received her grim message. Setting out in the early hours of the morning and styling himself Sir Pellinore -the name of an old family friend whom Morgana would not remember- to entice skilled fighters to join his cause. His first 'catch of the day' was to be Sir Derryth, the knight who had given Morgana a good run for her kingdom, approaching him only to find that "someone else" had gotten there first! He had picked up a few good prospects throughout the remainder of the morning but frustratingly just as many had already made commitments elsewhere.
"Damn that Morgana!" came the incredulous curses at each spluttering slip in the sodden ground. "Stealing bloody knights for herself like that! As if she needs anymore!"
Merlin bit his lip, dare he say it? "But...isn't that what we're doing?" He knew it was cheeky, he knew it would earn him a clout about the head but the pleasure of pointing out the obvious to his former master was never lost on the boyish wizard.
Thump!
"That's not the point Merlin!"
Arthur stalked off, muttering away to himself. He had a match to get to but after traipsing around the town on such a damp day he was in dire need of a bath and a change of clothes- sometimes he really did miss being prince of his own kingdom, in those days he could send Merlin out to do all the donkey-work!
The lower town could be full of shady characters, noticeable only if one went peeking into the doorways and crevasses that lined the narrow streets. Shame really, if Arthur and Merlin had paid more attention to the city's darker corners they may have just glimpsed the surreptitious gaze that followed them with discreet fascination...
Back in her ivory tower the Queen paced absently about her chambers. She didn't know how many days had passed since she had shut the door to the rest of the world that first night after being injured but she knew the tournament was nearing its end with the final match planned for later that afternoon. She had refused admittance to any and all visitors, even to Gaius who badly needed to check and change the dressing still wrapped tightly around her thigh. She had been frustrated and angry with herself at not being fit to compete through the rest of the tourney as it was but her Mother's visitation had served to make her paranoid as well. Meals were to be placed outside the entrance on a tray, jugs of water for washing likewise and a thick layer of dust coated the furniture where the maids had not been allowed to clean. Her anxious footsteps made a harsh noise, clicking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth over the hardwood floor. It was only through the corner of her eye during this frantic marching that she caught the commotion in the square below. She halted and opened the window just wide enough to catch some of the words being shouted from man to man as figures ran to and fro carrying messages, something about one of the competitors not turning up for the final but no-matter how hard she strained her ears she could not quite grasp the full story. She spun around and took the swift two steps to the doorway, whipping it open and grabbing the nearest servant. Her eyes were wild both from the isolation and from fear that the event which was to be her crowning achievement may suddenly be going awry. Never mind the fact that the she was already the subject of much speculation and idle gossip for shutting herself away for so long. The secretive, wicked sorceress who was to be heard talking to unknown persons in her lonely chambers in the middle of the night and scaring the wits out of loyal servants...
"What in the name of the Goddess is going on out there?" she demanded, her voice perhaps sounding a little harder than she had intended.
"Please ma'am, I don't right know, all I do know is that one of the knights has pulled out 'f the contest. I don't know any more'an that Miss, honest I don't!"
The mild terror on the young woman's face at being seized by the kingdom's mystical mistress forced Morgana to reign in her emotions, desperately seeking the calm level-headedness she had spent all those months trying to master. She let go of the girl and made an effort to give at least the impression of sanity even though her insides were turning like a butter churn. She gave a nervous nod to the maid and stalked off, only half-aware of where she was going. The whole world seemed distant and unreal, as if she were only looking at a reflection in a mirror or watching through the tiny waves in a goblet of wine. Her heart raced and the bright stone walls swam across her vision but her feet still moved of their own accord.
She felt better when she came out into the fresh air and took a great lungful of the clean scents that surrounded her. The fresh hay in the stables, the trace of roasted meats being prepared for the evening feast and the overall pervading redolence of the woodland that surrounded Camelot itself. It was soothing, comforting. Why had she locked herself away like that? Foolish girl, she thought to herself. When would she learn? She had enforced isolation onto herself in the past after Morgause had been taken from her and had near driven herself insane. She needed to be out in the world, sharing her life with other people. Was that what Morgause had meant in their shared dream?
She strolled at a more leisurely, more queenly, pace towards the arena. When she got there she found one of the tournament officials who was obviously was not used to being addressed by royalty and apparently did not know how to address one in return as he shifted from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at the expectant face in front of him;
"Erm, well, err, one of the finalists has pulled out. Got no idea why but wouldn't mind bettin' that 'e was, well, persuaded. Reckon he's been asked t' go elsewhere."
Morgana nodded distractedly, unsettled as she was a plan had started to form in her mind. "Thank you".
The only response that came was an "aye, right then" but his back was already turned. Ordinarily she may have called the strange little man up on his behaviour but at that moment she was far too preoccupied. Her mind was working overtime and by the time she looked up again she was in the armouries. This tournament would show the glory of Camelot if it killed her!
Morgana kept her helmet on as she entered the field, making extra effort to disguise the limp that had plagued her since her injury. The crowd that had grown restless after being monumentally disappointed at being told there would be no final now erupted into mass cheering at the sight of their second champion. She saw Gaius glaring at her from his place at the front of the stands- clearly she had not done as well at hiding her injury as she had hoped but he could do nothing to stop her now.
Her opponent turned to face her. Sir Pellinore, she thought grimly. He was solidly built but somehow not as threatening as she would have guessed and there was something familiar in his stance though she could not place him in memory. His armour looked fresh, he clearly had not taken many knocks in his bouts. With no monarch in the royal box to salute they began circling each other, sizing the other up before simultaneously springing into position. Just as the first exchange of blade rang out another moving pile of blackened armour battered its way onto the field. The insignia on the shield gave the name Cadeyrn...
To be continued...